Free Baton Rouge Bingo by Greg Herren Page B

the short one, his arms folded. I couldn’t tell who he was looking at—I hate mirrored sunglasses.
    They talked in voices too low for me to hear, and then the two newcomers headed to the cabin while Donnie Ray walked back to where we were standing.
    “So, what are you folks doing out there?” He said it in a friendly tone, but his eyes were cold and hard. He pulled out a little notepad from his shirt pocket, flipping it open expertly and getting a pen from his pants pocket.
    “Like I said before, my mom went to school with Veronica Porterie,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral and non-threatening. “When we heard about the tiger being kidnapped on television, and that AFAR was taking credit for taking him, Mom remembered the Porteries had this place out here. We thought we’d come check it out. It made sense, you know? I mean, they had to have a place to hide the tiger, right?” His face took on a strange look, and I added quickly, “I’m a private eye.” I pulled out my wallet, hoping I had one of my business cards in it. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I saw one, which I slipped out and handed to him. He examined it skeptically. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the taller deputy come tearing out of the cabin, run over to his car, and start talking on the radio.
    Donnie Ray gave me a weird look as he slipped my business card into his shirt pocket. He jerked a thumb over at the ancient Chevrolet. “You don’t know whose car that is, do you?”
    “No,” I replied. “I assumed it was Veronica’s.”
    He nodded and jotted down the license plate. He gave me a curious look, his thin lips widening in a smile. “So, you and your mother just decided to come out here to the Porterie place to look for Mike the Tiger, huh? A good hunch, I suppose, but as you can see there’s no place around here to keep or hide a tiger. No barn or pen or anything.” One of his thick red eyebrows slid upward. “No one’s been out here in years. It always surprised me a little that the Porteries kept paying the taxes on the place. I figured they’d eventually sell it.”
    “You’re familiar with the place?” I was a little surprised. It seemed to be pretty well off the beaten path. The cop who’d been on the radio came walking over to us. Donnie Ray held up a finger again with a slight smile and went to meet him. Once again, they talked in voices too low for me to hear anything, and then both came walking over to us.
    “This is Deputy Howie Landers,” Donnie Ray said. “He’s going to be asking you some questions, Mrs. Bradley, while I keep talking to Scotty here.”
    Howie Landers smiled at us both. Up close, his teeth were yellow and crooked, and he reeked of stale cigarette smoke. He was a little taller than me, and now that he was so close, I could see that he’d let his body go a little to seed. He had love handles and a bit of a soft tire around the middle. His arms were strong and beefy, though, and he took his sunglasses off to reveal bloodshot brown eyes that were set a little too close together. His cheeks were riddled with acne scars. “Nice to meetcha,” he drawled. “You want to come join me over by the car, ma’am? We can sit in the air-conditioning if you like—if you don’t mind my saying so, you look a little green around the gills.”
    “That would be lovely, thank you,” Mom replied in a very small voice, and followed him across the sparse lawn.
    I stared after them.
    “You okay?”
    I turned back to Donnie Ray. “I’m worried about her. I think she may be in shock.”
    He glanced over at them. Mom was talking, gesturing with her hands and looking a lot more animated. She seemed to be more herself, so I muttered a quick prayer for Howie Landers and turned my attention back to Deputy Tindall.
    “She looks like she’s going to be fine,” he said. “It helps to talk. Howie’s a good guy, he’ll get her mind off what she saw.”
    “Yeah, I guess so.” I nodded. “You sounded